World's Worst Criminals
by Scifan77
Summary: The plot bunnies jumped me. Agent Felicity Smoak wakes up with a gunshot wound after a stakeout goes horribly wrong. The larger problem is that she has been rescued by morons - Tommy Merlyn & Oliver Queen, playboy sons of organized crime. I do not own these characters, I just crush on them.


"Are you two out of your tiny little minds?"

They looked at each other hesitantly before looking at the irate blonde lying on the bed in front of them.

"Uuuh. Well…" started Tommy, with what was meant to be a shy grin.

"No." Felicity stopped him, "You don't get to speak right now."

Tommy took half a step back in surprise. He wasn't used to having his charm cut off at the knees like that.

"I can't be mad when you look at me like that and right now I _need_ to be mad. Because really what else should I be? You morons have kidnapped an injured federal agent. The world is going to come crashing down on you two in ways it never has before. I mean what the _hell_-unngh"

Tommy cut off her rant by sitting next to her on the bed and taking her wrist in his large hands. To all intents and purposes it looked as though he was taking her pulse, but Felicity couldn't imagine for a moment that any reading he was getting right now was accurate. The combination of his hands on her skin and his deep blue eyes searing into hers right now had basically stopped her heart.

"Agent Smoak," he began in a husky voice. "I just want to-"

"_We_. _We_ want to-" interrupted Oliver firmly as he moved to sit on the other side of the bed.

"Yes, _we_ only want to keep you safe," continued Tommy. "When you interrupted our fathers' men at the warehouse-"

"And they _shot_ me," cut off Felicity.

They at least had the grace to look uncomfortable at this undeniable truth. She snatched her hand from Tommy's and used it to gently probe the injury in her right bicep. It was a through-and-through and was hurting like hell. The bleeding seemed to have slowed but it was a damned mess.

A wave of nausea hit her and she lay back on the pillow. Closing her eyes, Felicity breathed in and out slowly, trying to regain her equilibrium. Her anger was fading now that the adrenaline was wearing off and all that was left in its wake was fear and pain.

"Please let us help you," said Oliver in a tight, low voice. "You are safe here. We can dress your wounds and smuggle you out when things have calmed down and you are well enough to walk under your own power."

Felicity's head was buzzing with questions. "Wait, where is here? And, oh God, wounds plural? Where else am I hit? Everything kinda hurts to some degree and I think the adrenaline is messing with my ah-ow! Shit! There it is."

Tommy gently lifted her left leg so that she could see the ugly gash running down the outside of her calf. She vaguely remembered catching it on a jagged piece of metal in her haste to find cover when the bullets started to fly. The nausea hit again and she lay her head back.

"Anything else?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"No," replied Tommy gently. "Those are the main two. The rest is just scrapes and cuts as far as we can tell. But, uhh obviously we haven't checked all over, just the stuff we could see."

Her eyes flew open at that. They were met with two pairs of deep blue, very concerned, very intense eyes. "I am so screwed," Felicity muttered. Something flickered in Oliver's eyes and Tommy and he shared a glance before he stood quickly.

"I'll go get some medical supplies," Oliver said crisply.

"No," Felicity ground out. "Just call an ambulance and disappear. I'll put it in the report that you two morons tried to help - or I can say anonymous morons if that works better for you – and no-harm, no-foul."

"That's not an option," said Oliver firmly. "My father's men are all over here. You'd never make it out alive."

"Well, where am I? Where did you bring me? How bad could it be?"

"You're in my bedroom at Queen Manor," Oliver replied as he took a step towards the door. "You're in my father's house.

"Morons," Felicity hissed furiously. "I've been kidnapped by fucking _morons_. I would have stood a better chance bleeding out in the fucking _warehouse_. You two seriously need to reconsider following your parents into a life of crime because you're _fucking morons_ and you won't last a _day_. What the _hell_-"

Her tirade was cut off by Tommy's hand over her mouth. He put his mouth close to her ear and his breath tickled the tiny hairs on her neck as he spoke. "Smoak. We know this is less than ideal-"

She snorted into his hand in agreement.

"But," he continued patiently. "As you have so succinctly pointed out, we are not cut out for a life of crime. We are trying to get out."

Her eyes locked with Oliver's even as Tommy's breath played on her skin. Oliver nodded.

"We know this isn't ideal. We know this isn't safe, but it is your best option for the moment. Let us help you, and then when we get you to safety maybe you can return the favor and help us find a way out from under our parents."

He released his hand from her mouth slowly, unsure of her reaction. Felicity stared at him and licked her lips. He glanced down at her lips for a long moment before looking her dead in the eye and asking, "What do you think Felicity?"

"How-" she squeaked out before clearing her throat. "How are you going to stop people walking in here and finding me in his bedroom?"

A slow, dangerous smile crept over Oliver's face as he answered. "You're not the first girl we've _entertained_ together in this room, Felicity. Trust me, no-one is going to disturb us."

Felicity gulped as he grinned and quietly left the room.


End file.
